


Sanctum

by masterofcthulhu (arialieur)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Superman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Multi, Porn with Feelings, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arialieur/pseuds/masterofcthulhu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diana hates it when her boys are hurt, so she always does her best to comfort them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctum

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. All the characters are not mine.

Between the too-small apartment of Clark’s and Bruce’s mansion, Diana’s penthouse feels terribly empty these days. Probably because she is alone now, her mind supplied. Sitting alone on the sofa of her living room, she sipped on her wine, listening to Violetta crying out her unconditional love to Alfredo in Maria Callas’ voice.

_Amami, Alfredo, amami quanti’io t’amo..._

Clark is going out to clear his head by flying to the North Pole, tired after his earlier fight with Bruce. Sulking, most likely, while Bruce had been out doing his Batman job as his way of brooding in his Batman style. Boys, both of them. So young, so fiery but—so young nonetheless. This is why Diana never involved herself too deeply with men before, those headache-inducing creatures. But Clark and Bruce are her headache-inducing creatures and she will not have it any other way.

She put her wine glass on the coffee table. Pulling the tartan comforter on her lap, she wrapped it around her shoulder. Tonight’s weather is rather chilly, what’s with being near the end of autumn. But she doesn’t want to close the balcony door in case…

Heavy footsteps fall on her balcony and she smiled.

_In case one of her boys stopped by._

“Adios.” Batman’s distorted voice reached her ear, makes her let out a small chuckle. The next and last line in that song is, indeed, _addio_. The farewell Violetta gave to her Alfredo.

“You’re gonna make a bad Violetta.” Diana commented while turning her body towards Bruce. The man is dressed in his full Batman regalia, black cape dancing to the tune of the wind. It paints pretty pictures, she thinks, Batman stands on the doorway of her balcony while the city lights twinkle like diamonds on his back. There are beautiful things that can only shines in darkness. Batman is one of them.

“What? I’m not dramatic enough?” he asked, still in that distorted voice. The man stalked towards Diana—because that is what Batman do, not walk but stalk. Always so dramatic.

“That you certainly do.” She sashayed to meet him in the middle, comforter laid forgotten in a heap on the carpet. As Bruce walks, Diana noticed the too-tight way he control the muscle, the uneven gait of his steps, and how he favored his left side. Bruised ribs? Open wounds?

“Rough night?” she asked as soon as he’s within her reach. Hands pulling that bat cowl off his head, wanting to hear Bruce’s voice and looking at Bruce’s eyes. The Batman costume always turns Bruce a little bit colder, his gaze a little bit harder. Don’t get her wrong, she loves it. And in a battle, she relishes it. But there are times when she craves the human part of the duality called Bruce Wayne’s Batman.

This is one of those times.

Diana caressed Bruce’s nape, playing with that soft hair on his hairline. Bruce’s grey hair has multiplied these past years, but he managed to make those grey hairs a part of his undeniable charm. She can feel him shudder under her care, the tension in his body lessened a fraction. Bruce lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, while Diana’s lips curved into a smile while she peppered his jawline with small, soft kisses. Bruce is exhausted, both physically and mentally. So exhausted, in fact, that he pulled away from both Diana and Clark to suffer alone, hence the earlier fight with Clark.

That will not do, not on her watch.

With a slight push, she leads him to the couch away from her balcony. He complies easily, letting his body fall backwards, but not without pulling her along with him. Bruce needs comfort, and Diana readily gives it to him. So she straddles his lap, making herself comfortable with both thighs on either side of his. Her hands started petting his hair, tugging at stubborn strands that always tangled every time Bruce donned his cowl. It never stopped being cute, the way Bruce leaning to her touch, head tilted at slight angle like a cat being luxuriously petted. Diana cannot help herself from kissing his lips, so she does.

“What was that about with Clark?” she asked, a little breathless after the kisses they shared. Bruce, the smart man he is, understands that Diana is coaxing him into talking about Clark, but at this point, he frankly cannot be bothered to care. “He pushed.” He said, hands tightening at Diana’s waist.

“You pushed back.” She said softly, kissing his brow.

“Yes—yes I did.”

“What is this about, Bruce? Clark’s face looked like a kicked puppy.”

“Well, you know what they say about Batman. The menace in the shadow. Puppy kicker.”

Diana cupped Bruce’s face with both hands. “For someone who claims to be puppy kicker, you don’t seem to be happy.” She said.

“Clark isn’t happy.” He answered.

Diana closes her eyes, asking whoever deity up there why, why did someone as suave as Bruce Wayne could be so cryptic at times? It’s like when it comes to feeling, God forbid he talk about it clearly. She told him this, and Bruce managed a small smile.

“I’d rather him unhappy than dead.”

Now THAT is a cause of alarm. Whatever bugging at Bruce is strong enough to kill Clark, Superman extraordinaire. “Who—“

“I took care of it.” Bruce cuts her, apparently sensing the alarm on her voice. His hands caressed her side in a soothing touch. She drops both her hands on his shoulder, her expression softens. “Is that why you picked a fight with Clark? So he got out of the way?”

A nod is her answer. Suddenly Diana feels a surge of fierce affection to this man. So brave, yet so awkward in the matter of heart. So ready to throw away his happiness in the blink of an eye if it means his loved one is safe. She kisses his lips chastely while caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. “You silly boy. Silly, silly boy.” She said fondly.

“Clark is not a damsel in distress, you know? He can take care of himself.” She reminded Bruce. Oh, she worries all the time, of course, worried about her boys and their dangerous lifestyle. But Diana will never presume that any of them cannot handle themselves. She will never interfere in their battle, unless in dire need.

“Not against kryptonite.”

Diana wanted to say that Bruce had used kryptonite against Clark too but Clark managed to live to tell the tale. She kept her silence, though. It was still a sore subject for Bruce, being reminded that once, he wanted to kill the man he loved—and almost succeed.

A movement caught in the edge of her vision, makes her lips curl into a wide smile. Something—or someone—flies outside of her penthouse and there is only one person who can do that, really.  “You’re hurt.” Diana pointed out to Bruce, voice a bit louder than her earlier whispers. She knows exactly when Clark runs his x-ray vision all over Bruce’s body, checking the wounds himself. _Superman thinks he’s being sneaky_ , Diana thinks with amusement, _but he cannot fool me_.

“Clark is out there, isn’t he?” Bruce asked her, having sense someone’s gaze on him even though his back is facing the balcony.

_Or fooling Bruce, for that matter._

Diana chuckled. “He lacks subtlety.” Her eyes flicked to her balcony door, where Clark flies in— _sans costume_ , she noted. Diana enjoys seeing her men dressed sharp in suit, but Clark has a way to look utterly adorable in his plaid shirts. Now, for instance—all homely and charming like the good farm boy he is.

“I’m not.” Diana can hear a pout in Clark’s voice. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, THE Superman can pout, and what a dangerous pout it is. Diana is half-convinced that Clark can actually defeat Lex Luthor’s machinations singlehandedly with that pout and puppy look.

“You went to North Pole with that clothes?” Diana asked, watching the man touch down.

“I didn’t go to the North Pole, I went to Martha’s.” Clark said as he walks inside. Ah, that explains the outfit. And the lack of anger. Martha must’ve been able to talk some sense into that thick skull of his.

“Listen, Bruce—“ Clark started, making Bruce turns his head towards his voice. “I—“ he said again, taking another step—and promptly tripped over the carpet. Silence ensues, and then—

“Pfft…hahahaha…” Bruce’s shoulder shakes as he laughed. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks reddened, chest heaving with laughter. Both Diana and Clark is staring at his expression, trying to save this rare moment in their mind forever. Not long after, they joined Bruce in his laughter, previous anger momentarily forgotten as they note the absurdity of this situation. Both Bruce and Diana cannot fathom how someone so graceful in fights (and tights!) can be so clumsy against carpets  and furnitures, of all things.

Diana slid off Bruce’s lap to help Clark from his position on the floor. It’s not that he needs her help, per say, but after that embarrassing moment she was pretty sure Clark wants her help. To break the ice between them, if nothing else. Clark’s hand is warm when she pulled him to his feet, and she sends him a warm smile to answer his. Clark bent his body to give her a chaste kiss in the lips, one that she returns with another peck.

He then looked at Bruce with longing in his eyes, momentarily at loss. The awkwardness is also mirrored in Bruce’s stance. Diana shakes her head, amused. Her boys, both so different yet so alike. With a push, Diana sends Clark to Bruce, accompanied with a smile and a command. “Go, kiss and make up. Now.” She said fondly.

It was Bruce who took the first step, reaching for Clark’s hand. With his gaze on their joined hand, Bruce smiled wistfully. “I’m sorry.” He said.

“No you’re not.” Clark countered, “You will not think twice to do it again.”

Bruce’s eyes flicked over Clark’s blue one, pursing his lips, then amends his apology. “I’m sorry I made you angry on purpose.”

Clark opened his mouth to start another argument, but Diana chose that moment to hug him from behind. “That apology was the most you can get out of him, you know?” she said. At that, Clark sighs wearily, then pulled Bruce into his arms. He rests his forehead on Bruce’s shoulder and just _breath_ —breathing the smell of sweat and Kevlar and metal and the tang of blood. Just breathing, in silence, once again feeling thankful that Bruce managed to come back home. A bit battered and wounded, sure, but still warm, safe and sound.

“I’m still angry at you, you know?” Clark mumbles against the padding on Bruce’s armor.

“Tell me how to make it up to you.” Bruce simply said, one of his hands reached out to caress Clark’s nape while the other one snaked around Clark’s waist to rest against Diana’s shoulder. He nuzzled Clark’s neck, then leaving a trail of kisses from his hairline to his jaw. “Tell me.” He said again. Clark lifts his head to look at Bruce, finally caught up to his intention. “No, no. You’re injured.”

Diana took a step back so she can walk around Clark to hug Bruce from his side instead. “If anything, my love. I think you’re the one who should sit back and relax.” She said to Bruce. With a kiss to the cheek for both men, she took their hand in hers.

“Come, my dears.” She said over her shoulder, tugging them to follow her. “I will patch you up in the bedroom, ok?”

Bruce and Clark let her lead them to the bedroom, all the while sharing soft smiles and fond gazes to each other.  “Your wish is my command, my love.” Bruce said.

“Oh sweet talker, you.” Diana said while pushing Bruce down— _pushing him down for the second time tonight_ , she thinks with amusement—so he can sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m taking out the first aid kit. Clark?” she calls while rummaging her closet.

Clark, who was standing beside Bruce while uselessly holding his hand, stood straighter at her call. “Yes ma’am!”

Diana chuckled. “Get him out of that costume, you dork.”

His grin is far from bashful farm-boy Clark as he turn to Bruce, asking, “May I?”

Bruce snorted, “Well, you did take me out to dinner. Last year.” He comments, but did nothing to stop Clark from feeling around his back to find the zipper to open his suit.

“Is it that long already? But we ate together all the time.” Clark’s tongue poked out of his lips a little bit while he’s concentrating to locate all of the clasps in Bruce’s armor. Said man cannot get his eyes away from the appendage so he surged forward to capture Clark’s lips on his own.

“Mmnn…yes, but.” Bruce gives him another peck, “Eating on the roof of building after blowing up villains of the day doesn’t count.”

Finally, Clark managed to peel that Kevlar off Bruce’s chest only to find that part of his ribs is bruised. There are also a thin cut on his side that is starting to scab. He sighs sadly at the sight. Bruce, as the only actual human between the three of them, doesn’t heal as fast as Diana and Clark. His fingers lightly touched the discoloration on Bruce’s left ribs, “Hurts?” he asked.

“Not really.” Bruce answered. Clark added a little pressure to his touch, eliciting a pained hiss from Bruce’s lips.  “Liar.” Clark whispered between apology kisses on Bruce’s lips.  Their interaction brought smile on Diana’s face, who finally located the first aid kit under a coat.

“So, how was your x-ray assessment?” Diana asks Clark as she sits beside Bruce on the bed.

“Nothing’s cracked or broken, thankfully. Only a cut on his side, and little bruises. Bruised Bruce. Heh.”

“Your joke is terrible and you should feel terrible.” Bruce deadpans at Clark’s attempt at joke.

 “Well, sorry that the sight of my lover in bruises doesn’t make me feel so humorous.” Clark shot back, but then remembered that he shouldn’t pick a fight, opt to sit on Bruce’s other side instead. Bruce let out a small smile, but doesn’t pass the chance to tease the man.

“And now you’re sulking.”

“Am not.”

“Seriously, boys?” Diana interjected before their banter turned into an all-out kindergarten style of bickering. Bruce is still grinning when he kissed Diana to appease the Goddess’ wrath. Slyly, he slipped his tongue and nipped at her lips, a gesture she returns with the same fervor. Clark used this opportunity to kiss Bruce’s nape, giving little kisses and bites while his hand roamed the man’s pectoral.

Not for long, Diana broke their kiss. “As much as I like to continue this, we need to clean up your wounds before it gets infected.” She said before started the task of cleaning and bandaging Bruce’s cut. “It’s not a big cut so I don’t think you need stitches.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to like it when you’re injured, Bruce.” Clark said, watching Diana works from behind Bruce’s shoulder, dropping kisses whenever Bruce hisses over the stings of alcohol.

After everything is done, Diana brings the first aid kit back to where it belongs. Clark grins at her before he lifts Bruce on his arms, bridal style, to deposit the man in the center of the bed. Bruce lifts one of his eyebrows at Clark, “Is this your revenge for implying that you’re a damsel in distress earlier? Because it was totally Diana who implies that, not me.”

The man’s grin only getting bigger, but he said nothing as he helps Bruce resting comfortably on the headboard. As soon as his lover settled, he kisses Bruce deeply, trying to convey all his gratitude for coming home _alive_. Bruce kisses him back, trying to match each pressing of lips, each licks of tongue, each little bite, with equal passion. Clark can feel the mattress dip as Diana joined them, so he broke the kiss to let Bruce kiss Diana while he ventured lower to his collarbone to leave a trail of hickey.

“You’ve been a bad boy, Bruce, for making us worry.” Diana said between kisses, her fingers playing with Clark’s brown tresses, alternating between caress and pulling. Bruce snaked his left hand to Diana’s back and slipped under her blouse. He stroked her spine, feeling the ridges with the tip of his fingers. Slowly, his hands move to the clasp of her bra, then opens it with a flick of his hand.

“Naughty, naughty.” Diana comments. Her hands started working to open the buttons on her blouse, then taking it all off along with her bra. Clark’s face, when presented with such glorious—ahem—tits, is positively devilish. And horny. Definitely horny. He took one of her nipples in his mouth, playing his tongue around it to elicit a moan from her lips. Bruce opted to nuzzle his face on her cleavage before taking the other nipple to his mouth, biting it lightly between his teeth.

Diana’s moan is music in Bruce’s ears. When he feels Clark going lower, he takes over his place, kneading the mound in his free hand. Her moans drown the sound of his zipper being pulled down, so it was a surprise when he feels Clark grabs his aroused member and gives it a few strokes. Bruce started to pant when Diana hold his member as Clark taking the rest of his pants off.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Bruce said to Clark, who grins and said, “Yeah?”

Clark kneels in front of Bruce, resting his weight on his heels. With a naughty wink, he opened his button one by one, clearly planning to give his lovers a show. Bruce wanted to reach Clark but the other man slapped his hand away. “Ah. Ah. Ah. No touching, baby.” Clark said. Now that all the buttons are opened, he slowly moves his hand from his pectoral to his abs, while the other playing with the button of his jeans.

At Bruce’s groan Diana grins, giving Bruce’s shoulder a small bite while giving his member a light squeeze as a warning. “Stay still, darling.” She purred.

Finally, Clark opened his pants, taking it off along with his boxer. He left the shirt hanging on his shoulder though, while he stroked himself in front of his lovers. He crawled between Bruce’s open legs, kissing his inner thigh along the way. Putting his hands on top of Diana’s, they stroke Bruce’s length together, listening to his moans and groans. As she let go to take off the remaining of her clothing, Clark bends down and licks the head of Bruce’s shaft. Bruce’s hand grabbed Clark’s hair, trying to get his lover to swallow him deeper. But Clark, being the tease with super power he is, managed to maintain his own leisurely pace, even under the pressure of Batman-level power.

“Get him out of his misery, Kent.” Diana said amusedly, taking pity to her lover. Without taking his eyes off Bruce’s member, Clark gave Diana a thumb up before relaxing his throat to take all of Bruce in one go. The man’s loud moan is swallowed by Diana’s tongue inside his mouth, kissing him deeply.

“I’m close.” Bruce whispers to her lips.

“Go on.” She said, “Let it all go.”

So he does.

* * *

 

While Bruce is enjoying his post-orgasmic bliss, Clark crawled over to Diana to give her a deep kiss. The woman can taste Bruce’s essence in Clark’s kisses, licking and biting her way inside the man’s mouth. A string of saliva connects their lips when he broke their kiss.

Diana reached for Clark’s member to give it several stroke. “Come closer to me.” She commanded. Clark complies, letting her guide his member inside of her mouth. He groans as she started to bob her head, alternating between stroking and sucking his entire length. Bruce, having recovered enough, latched his mouth on one of her breasts while his finger finds her entrance. Diana’s moan on Clark’s member sends shiver down his spine, while Bruce busy fingering her.

With a tug on her hair, Clark got her to let go of his shaft. “Let me in.” he said. Diana only smiled. Resting her head on Bruce’s shoulder, she opened her legs for Clark. “Come on then.”

Clark gives her another kiss as he pressed his member inside her heat. Her gasps turned to moans when Clark started to pick up the pace of his thrusts. Bruce raised his hand to the back of Clark’s neck to reel him into a heated kiss. One of his hands lazily stroke his own member back into full hardness, while the other grope blindly to the nightstand beside their bed, looking for the bottle of lubricant. With a cry of victory he take the item out and go back lavishing attention to his lovers by touches, kisses and occasional bites.

Bruce opened the cap of lube to pour some onto his palm. He warms it up a little bit before coating his fingers in it. He moves to kneel behind Clark, kissing the line of his spine while he enters two fingers in the man’s backside. This action made Clark paused his one man mission of marking Diana’s breast with hickeys to moan. His body jerks as Bruce’s fingers finds his prostate and mercilessly assault it. Bruce caught Diana’s eyes and sends her a grin before guiding his member inside Clark’s heat, making the brunette groans loudly. He used both of Clark’s arm as leverage to jerk him closer, then taking the shirt off completely before throwing it away in random direction. Once he sheathed the whole length inside, he does some experimental thrust, which drives Clark deeper inside Diana. She moans loudly, locking her arms on Clark’s nape to kiss him.

“Fuck!” Clark cursed, as the pleasure building inside him. Bruce picked up the pace, driving into both Clark and Diana with more force. “So…good….”

Diana used one of her hands to hold onto Clark’s waist, while the other holding Bruce’s thigh as leverage. Together they moved in harmony, as seamless in the bedroom as in battle. Reading each other’s body language as fluent in fight as in pleasure. Careless touches, sloppy kisses, and Diana finds she lost herself in that white-hot passion. It is victory in and of itself, Diana thinks, as she watches these two powerful men falls apart in her arms, showing the side of them nobody else can see.

And as they lay together to catch their breath in tangled limbs, clinging to each other all sweaty and sticky and very, very happy, Diana let Clark reach across her to grab a chunk of Bruce’s hair.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He said seriously. He really doesn’t want Bruce to take all the risk, shoving him aside in the misguided notion that he’s protecting Clark.

Bruce buried half his face in his pillow, glancing to the side with one eye to see Clark. “Like hell I won’t.” he said before burying his face completely, ignoring the hand still gripping his hair. Diana can feel Clark instantly bristles in her arms and let out a laugh.

 _Seriously, her bo_ ys, she thinks fondly.

Silly, silly boys.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language and this story is unbeta-ed so I apologize for any grammar mistakes.  
> Also, this is my first time writing smut. I am soooo embarrassed when I wrote this. Cross-posted in fanfiction.net  
> Violetta , Alfredo and the song is from La Traviata.


End file.
